


Speaker of the Gods

by LogicIsGod327



Category: Original Work
Genre: Divination, M/M, Magic, Oracles, Serious world building, Seriously I built a way too detailed world for a 1300 word one shot, Tribal life, oh well lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:18:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicIsGod327/pseuds/LogicIsGod327
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My mother spoke through the Maiden and the Huntsman. When she futurecasted, it sounded like a running river of words. And before that, her uncle spoke through the Warrior and the Builder, and it sounded like thunder.” Kasuri likes to tell the village children sometimes.</p><p>The boy, because that’s what he truly is, a boy of only seventeen to Massi’s twenty three, is from a long line of Speakers stretching back to the Founders, nearly a thousand generations ago. Kasuri stands, narrow and of average height, as though the weight of the Voice is a physical one, and Massi understands why. Kasuri knows when every member of the village will die, and how, even himself. It’s one of the worst parts of the Voice, the constant sense of death and knowing every coming disaster. The Gods prevent him from speaking when he attempts to warn others of coming plagues or attacks by other villages, but he will be permitted to speak when the crops shall be ready, or when a child has been made in his mother’s belly, and even when a herd of elk shall pass close by to hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speaker of the Gods

Kasuri speaks in a mellow tenor at all times, but especially when he futurecasts. When the voices of the Daughter and the Son intertwine and speak through his body, the effect is a glorious tenor the likes of which Massi could never hope to replicate, nor would he dishonor his lover by attempting to do so.

“My mother spoke through the Maiden and the Huntsman. When she futurecasted, it sounded like a running river of words. And before that, her uncle spoke through the Warrior and the Builder, and it sounded like thunder.” Kasuri likes to tell the village children sometimes.

The boy, because that’s what he truly is, a boy of only seventeen to Massi’s twenty three, is from a long line of Speakers stretching back to the Founders, nearly a thousand generations ago. Kasuri stands, narrow and of average height, as though the weight of the Voice is a physical one, and Massi understands why. Kasuri knows when every member of the village will die, and how, even himself. It’s one of the worst parts of the Voice, the constant sense of death and knowing every coming disaster. The Gods prevent him from speaking when he attempts to warn others of coming plagues or attacks by other villages, but he will be permitted to speak when the crops shall be ready, or when a child has been made in his mother’s belly, and even when a herd of elk shall pass close by to hunt.

But that is not all. Kasuri’s Voice goes backwards, as well. Back and back to the first Speaker, who he can channel for advice and consultation. Kasuri speaks in a million voices, not just those of the Speakers, but of the chieftains and the mothers and the crones, any Voice who is needed for the survival of the village. But the voice Massi likes hearing the most is Kasuri’s own.

When Kasuri speaks, it is wonderful, but the greatest is when he sings. He's channeled great singers and musicians, but when Kasuri murmurs a soft song as he works, or reads the bones, or as they lay together in the darkness of the night, Massi falls more in love with him. It’s wonderful.

 

-Ω-

 

Massi is a great hunter. Their village’s finest, in fact. They say that when he was born, the Huntsman stood at his mother’s bedside and whispered all His secrets into the infant Massi’s ear. Even Old Mother, their Shaman and the most revered of their elders, bows to him when he returns from the hunt, six men struggling to carry a stag that stood twenty feet high which Massi killed alone. That stag will feed the village for months on end, through the winter when the Mother cools the Worldhearth and the frost descends. 

Massi also tells some of the best stories. At night, when the Gods perform the Dance of Lights over their head, he tells of the time before the Founders, when the people were scattered and lived as the animals did, and how the Father blessed the First Speaker with language, and the First Speaker built a hut and taught the people what the Father gave her. And from there, more huts came until the first village was born.

As the greatest hunter, Massi faces even greater danger. Kasuri knows how it will end, how soon it will end, and he cannot speak. All he can do is be there when Massi goes, holding him through to the end. Kasuri loves him still, and it’s wonderful.

 

-Ω-

 

Massi’s day has come. His time is up, so brief, so vibrant, and it is now to end. Massi, unknowing of his fate, invites Kasuri to come witness him take down one of the stags from the herd the Speaker predicted would come close, and Kasuri, trying to hold himself together, agrees to come along. The two walk hand in hand, Kasuri trying to say goodbye, but the his lips cannot even make the words, let alone force them up from his throat. It’s awful.

Kasuri curses the Gods as the moment gets closer and closer, waiting for the great white cat to pounce from the trees and to break the hunter’s neck. He spots it a precious few seconds before, and something miraculous happens.

“Massi,  _ behind you! _ ” It tears from Kasuri’s throat like thunder, the Voice projecting all the Gods at once.

Massi turns just in time, and jumps to meet the cat in midair, burying his spear in its chest. It falls with a great roar, but Massi stands, unhurt and alive, impossibly so. He tears his spear from the animal’s heart, and smiles in deep gratitude to his lover.

“What was that? You spoke with more Voices than any before you…” He trails, confused.

“I do not know. I have seen the vision of your death at the hands of the beast, and I could not tell you, and yet, the Gods have permitted it. This is… unprecedented.” Kasuri’s voice, now normal, holds a note of fear.

“We must confer with Old Mother.” Massi says. “She shall know.” He sounds confident, but he is as confused as his companion.

“To Old Mother, then.”

 

-Ω-

 

“Sir, I’m not sure what I’m seeing here. I think there’s a glitch in the AI.” A student speaks from her console, the hologram showing the two virtual men paused.

“What is it, Selena?” Professor Harrington rises from his desk.

“The Speaker AI, Kasuri, broke parameters. He warned his lover that the Saber Toothed Tiger was going to kill him, he shouldn’t be able to do that. Do you want me to trace his coding, find the bug and rerun the sim correctly?” Selena asks.

Harrington considers for a moment, but shakes his head. “We’re working on the first sentient simulated life forms, we knew there was a chance the parameters could be broken. Besides, this could be interesting. Run the sim as is, with the new parameters, but keep a close on the Massi AI, he might break as well.”

“Yes, Professor. Resuming the sim.”

 

-Ω-

 

“I do not know, but the Gods have gifted you with something. They have allowed your love to escape fate, and this worries me. Perhaps the rules of our world are not as we thought they were. I see a great destiny for you two, but one that risks either our rise or our ruination. Tread carefully, my sons. Tread very carefully.” Old Mother warns them from where she reads the bones in the flames. 

“Thank you, Old Mother. We shall heed your advice with all diligence.” Kasuri bows his head, Massi following suit before exiting her hut.

“That was not worrying at all.” Massi snorts, sarcastic. “The fate of our people rests upon our shoulders. Thank the Maiden.”

“We shall be alright. I wish for you to know, Massi, that… that I love you, very deeply.” Kasuri speaks the final portion as a whisper.

Massi is taken aback, but grips the younger man’s hands in his own. “My love for you is as deep as the Far Sea, never doubt that.” The two kiss briefly but passionately, before intertwining hands and walking towards the village hearth, where the children run and laugh and the elderly couples watch the Dance of Light, the rings across the southern skies, or any of the three moons. Some pray to the Ringkeeper which traces the edge, others to the Tidemistress who pulls the waves of the Far Sea, and others still pray to the Guardian who absorbed a great blow from the stars so that the world did not.

Kasuri however, offers a small prayer to the Gods as they dance.

‘ _ Thank you. _ ’

From across the holographic screen, the Gods send back a silent ‘ _ You’re welcome. _ ’

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand alone, despite my habit of saying that and then returning to the universe, I will NOT do that this time. I promise. I like where this ended. I hope you did, too.


End file.
